


Cut, Scene

by bitsori



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Holding Hands, M/M, Trapped In Elevator, minsungbingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23377696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitsori/pseuds/bitsori
Summary: Minho Lee, professional television writer, briefly gets stuck in an elevator with his friend, Peter Han, Hollywood darling extraordinaire.(That's it—that's the fic.)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 32
Kudos: 360
Collections: Cotton fluff Minsung, MINSUNG BINGO: Round One





	Cut, Scene

**Author's Note:**

> [ 1 ] This was planned and meant to be a short Twitter fill. Unfortunately, I have a problem with being concise.
> 
> [ 2 ] Once again, this is for [@minsungbingo](http://twitter.com/minsungbingo)! Do check it out if/when you have the time! The AO3 collection houses only a portion of the content ouput produced for the event, so best check the reat out on Twitter! This litle fic filled in the squares: **AU - Actors/Hollywood, Holding Hands, Stuck In An Elevator**.

— % —

  
  


“Hyung!” Jisung’s entire face lights up when the elevator doors open and he’s met face to face with its one passenger.

Minho, said elevator passenger, can't help the natural smile that curves on his own lips and the way that his shoulders relax, as if all the accumulated stress that came from a few too many extra hours storyboarding with his peers in the writers’ room has dissipated, just like that, thanks to Peter Han’s mere presence.

(“Jisung—” he had insisted Minho call him when they first met. “Call me Jisung, and I’ll call you, hyung!” He had spoken to Minho in excitable, but fluent Korean. Minho couldn’t help but warm up to him immediately, because just like that, he’d brought to Minho the feeling of a home he’d left behind years ago, when he was only sixteen. “Okay,” he had acquiesced easily, even though years of living in America had long ago made him stop caring about honorifics and age hierarchy of any sort. He’d like to think they have been pretty good friends ever since that day.)

It’s no wonder that despite being a newcomer plucked out of seemingly nowhere by some hired casting agency, only one year into the airing of _On The Road_ (an ensemble drama that told the story of a touring band and their roadies, the one that has pretty much launched Jisung’s acting career _and_ Minho’s screenwriting one) and Peter Han has already become Hollywood’s newest Asian darling.

“Wait—” Minho glances at his wrist watch, confused as to what Jisung is doing at the network building this late in the evening. “Why are you still here? And where’s Chris?” He asks, referring to Jisung’s manager, who is almost always by his side.

“Had an endorsement deal meeting for dinner,” Jisung explains. “Just across the street—and I kinda left my jacket behind this morning when I was here for my copy of the script for next season’s second episode?” He ducks his head, looking sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Figured I’d go back for it since I can. Chris is waiting for me in the parking lot across the street. Why are _you_ still here, hyung?”

Minho laughs. “Overtime in the writers’ room,” he explains. “I’m only going for a quick food run because I drew the short straw.”

“Right, because stories don’t get told on their own,” Jisung muses. “Ah! Do you mind if I tag along, hyung?”

Minho gives him a confused look. “What for?”

“You’re getting food for the writing staff, right?” Jisung clarifies, to which Mimho nods in response. “I’ll pay! You’re always giving my character the best lines, so I feel like I owe the writers of the show my career…”

Minho laughs, even as he tries to hide just how incredibly endeared he is, not just by Jisung’s palpable excitability, but also by his humility. A little pride mixes in as well, because most of Brian’s (also known as Jisung’s wisecracking character on the show) memorable and quotable lines were thought of and penned by Minho himself.

(“You’re so biased,” Changbin, his roommate, and one of the show’s sound directors, is always telling him. “You’re always giving Brian the best dialogue.”

“Whatever,” Minho always answers him; he mentally reasons that the biggest reason he even got on the show’s writing staff to begin with, was because of some diversity policy, so the least he can do is make the show’s one Korean character seem as authentic and relatable as he can – which means giving him the best material Minho can come up with. It’s totally not because Peter Han inspires him a great deal.

Absolutely not.)

“Your line delivery is what makes—” He starts to answer, only for the elevator to suddenly – and quite loudly, like metal regurgitating metal, if that’s even possible – lurch to a stop.

Minho has never been good with booming, surprising noise, and the first thing he instinctively does is reach out and grab Jisung’s hand. It’s a little embarrassing, and after a couple of seconds spent on collecting himself, he casually begins to pull his hand away, silently hoping that both of them can pretend that didn’t just happen – except Jisung is now quick to hold his hand tightly, clearly refusing to let go.

There’s a concerned expression painted on the younger male’s features as he stares at the floor indicator, obviously hoping that it’ll change any second now. Minho squeezes his hand in an attempt to comfort, and he silently hopes that the way Jisung’s expression relaxes is because the small gesture worked.

“No need to panic,” Minho assures him, as he takes his phone out of his pocket. He’s got a one bar signal but he supposes that’s better than none – except as he tries to attempt to place an outgoing call, the signal bar keeps disappearing and after a fifth attempt he gives up, frustrated.

“Let me try—” Jisung tells him, his face falling as he reaches into his pockets, only to end up procuring nothing. “Fuck,” he grits his teeth, something clearly dawning on him. “Forgot that I left it at Chris’ car, charging.”

Minho looks down at his phone screen, typing a quick message to the writers room group chat — hoping that it’ll get sent and that his peers will send help soon.

He sighs, as the screen seemingly freezes on ‘sending,’ and then he looks up to catch Jisung performing a quiet breathing exercise as if to calm himself down. Minho takes his hand away, but only so he can rub soothing circles on Jisung’s back instead.

He doesn’t believe in panicking, so he decides he’s going to distract both of them so they can collectively keep calm.

“Have you read the script for episode two yet?” He asks, leaning against the side of the elevator and motioning for Jisung to do the same with him.

Production and filming of the show’s second season starts up again in less than two weeks, and the writers’ room is still largely undecided about the main plot thread running through the season which is why they’ve been pulling all nighters recently. Still, he’s curious about what Jisung thinks about some of the developments in his character that has already been laid out in the two episodes worth of script that has been finished.

“I skimmed through it,” Jisung answers, smiling and perking up a bit. “I meant to message you about this, but since I have you here now – you’ll still run lines with me regularly this season, right, hyung?”

The first time that Jisung’s character had an episode dedicated to him had also been the first time that Minho was tasked to lead the writers room, and pen the script by himself. He’d been proud of the result, albeit also nervous – not that he ever admitted that out loud to anyone.

Jisung hadn’t been shy about his own anxiety though; it was his first time being front and center of an entire episode and he’d approached Minho to confide in him about this—but also to ask him for help in rehearsing lines, if only so he can truly capture the character in a way that reconciled how Minho, the writer, meant for him to be, and how Jisung, the actor, interpreted him as.

The episode had really good ratings, and an even higher stream playback percentage. It was critically acclaimed, and had eventually earned Jisung a Golden Globe nomination _(Best Supporting Actor in a Series, Miniseries or Television Film,_ and Minho has since promised himself to write better material so Jisung can take home the win next time), and from then on, Jisung had always asked Minho for help in running his lines, never mind if the script was written by him specifically or anyone else on staff.

(“We’re a good combination,” Jisung had told Minho. “The best version of Brian that fans love come from both of us—we shouldn’t mess with a winning combination!”)

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Minho smiles at him faintly. “Why not?”

Jisung beams. “Great!” And then, after a beat, “Um, so—Brian gets a girlfriend this season, huh?”

Minho hums. “For a few episodes.”

“They kiss in episode 2,” Jisung says slowly.

“Oh. Yeah.” Minho nods; Season 2, Episode 2 isn’t his script, so he’d almost forgotten about _that_ development in Jisung’s character’s life. (“You mean you forgot it on purpose,” he could almost hear Changbin in his head, obnoxious sniggering and all. _God,_ he thinks. His roommate can be annoying as fuck.)

“Would you—” Jisung laughs, almost nervously, Minho notes mentally. “Would you run that part through with me as well, hyung?”

_Wait, what?_

He looks up to meet Jisung’s gaze, only to fail because the younger man seems busy studying the elevator floor. If Minho looks more closely, he thinks he can make out a light blush coloring his adorable cheeks.

“Huh?”

Minho blinks, only to recall the recent rumors and tabloid fodder on Peter Han. Gossip blogs have been tirelessly associating him with Sam Hwang, another up and coming Korean-American actor who had a guest stint on their show during the first season. He and Jisung had butted heads at first, to the point where they almost refused to appear in any scenes together – which was silly, because Sam’s role had been directly connected to Jisung’s character. Minho, as the writer in charge of developing both roles, had needed to step in to mediate.

Perhaps he’d done so a little too successfully because not only did Jisung and Sam end up displaying perfect on screen chemistry, they’ve also become TMZ’s favorite slow news day clickbait. Just a few days ago, Changbin had sent him a bunch of pictures of the two of them going on an early morning walk with Sam’s dog, and looking incredibly cosy together.

“Guess he _is_ gay,” his roommate had surmised, referencing an earlier conversation the two of them had, where Changbin had embarrassingly fanboyed over the actor after he was cast on the show. (“He’s so beautiful—who on Earth allowed someone to be that beautiful?” Changbin had gushed. “He’s a model turned actor. They come that way in droves,” Minho had answered, mostly for the sake of being contrary. “You think I have a chance with him?” “You don’t even know if he’s into dudes—I heard he dated one of those ex-Disney girls,” Minho pointed out. “Man, it’d be a shame if he was exclusively into girls—that kind of beauty deserves equal opportunity lovin’,” Changbin declared, looking a little too star-struck that Minho could only feign disgusted gagging in response.)

“You should run lines with your _boyfriend,”_ Minho finds himself saying, his tone a little more clipped than he intends for it to be. “I mean—” He forces out a chuckle. “You’d have fun going through the kissing scene.” He almost chokes on his own words, and he can feel his ears heating up – out of discomfort more than anything else, really.

“Huh.”

It’s Jisung’s turn to blink at Minho with puzzlement. Minho has been truly consciously doing his best to hol d back from panicking, but the elevator box suddenly feels way too small and he finds himself leaning away from Jisung as he takes in a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down.

“Hyung—” Jisung stares at him for a few seconds before he… _lets out loud laughter?_ The sound, echoing and bouncing off the walls of the elevator, completely takes Minho by surprise.

“What’s funny?” He asks, wrinkling his nose and casting a sideways glance at the floor indicator. Getting stuck in an elevator with Jisung had a kind of strange appeal that he wouldn’t admit out loud, but that was earlier – now it just feels uncomfortable. Why in the world did he have to reference those stupid rumors about Jisung and Sam?! The actor’s romantic endeavours are totally none of his business, despite the casual friendship the two of them had long struck up.

“You.” Jisung says, grinning. And perhaps it's also funny how the tables have turned – where Jisung was the one clearly anxious about being trapped in a small metal box earlier, he’s the one who seems far too relaxed now. “Okay,” he continues, stepping closer towards Minho. His grin curves even wider, getting cheekier. “Will _you_ be my boyfriend, then?”

Again — _what the fuck?_

His absolute bewilderment probably shows on his face, because Jisung laughs yet again.

“Excuse me?” Minho, dumbstruck, almost chokes on his own words.

Jisung is standing so close to him now, one hand on Minho’s shoulder and — _when the fuck did that happen?_

“Will you be my boyfriend?” He repeats, calmly, casually, but with such genuine feeling.

Minho thinks his brain must be malfunctioning because surely he’s imagining things?

“Hyung…?” Jisung checks in with him, head tilted with concern reflected in his eyes as he peers closer at Minho. “Did you hear me?”

“F-fine,” Minho manages to stammer out. “I’ll help you run through your stupid scenes.”

Jisung starts laughing once more, and as Minho lets himself absorb the meaning of Jisung’s words, he can’t help but now be calmed by the beautiful sound of his laughter. _Did Jisung Han really just ask him to be his boyfriend?_

“Is that a yes to my question then, hyung?” Jisung asks, with a smirk so self-assured that Minho almost wants to wipe it off his face with a kiss.

“It’s a yes to running lines with you, with a caveat that you take me out on at least one date before you even think about asking that question again,” Minho huffs, finally able to gather his wits as he works on stabilizing the loud and erratic pounding of his heart that Jisung had clearly caused.

Jisung giggles, and Minho looks at him suspiciously, only to once again be caught off-guard as the actor swoops in and plants a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” He asks, after he steps back, clearly enjoying the effect he has on Minho who feels frozen on spot.

“Ah—” _Yes, a thousand times yes,_ Minho would say, except that gross, loud noise of metal on metal sounds off again as the elevator abruptly launches into movement finally, rendering Jisung off-balance and causing him to stumble straight into Minho’s arms. “Okay, tomorrow night,” he murmurs, laughing as he helps steady the other male. “It’s a date.”

 _Funny that,_ he thinks. It’s like a scene straight out of a cheesy sitcom – except Minho himself couldn’t have written it any better.

  
  
  


_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading til the end. As usual, feedback and the like are much appreciated! ♥ [TWT](http://twitter.co/hanmings) && [CC](http://curiouscat.me/yiminho)


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